Induced Passion
by Lyon.The.Demon
Summary: After getting sent to Prison for a crime he didn't commit, McGee comes strangely face to face with DiNozzo; not in prison, but in a room filled with ways to drive him out of his mind in torture and pleasure; or both.  Who, if anyone, will save them now?
1. Chapter 1

_Authors note: Just something I decided to do out of extreme boredom. I think Tony/Tim from NCIS is awesome and anyone who doesn't; the answer is simple. / DONT READ. / I own nothing except for my own ideas, and the horrible want to actually own the show, though I don't. And also, making McGee go to the Comic Con as Logan was just a funny stunt for me, since Wolverine is one of the most Bad ass mofos out there, and McGee is so... Not. XDD_

- Tony DiNozzo slammed his hand down on the steering wheel in front of him; he'd long since put his car in park and unhooked his seatbelt, though he had yet to get out. Instead, he'd sat in silence in front of the Federal Prison in Hopewell, VA. He remembered easily the past frantic weeks they'd gone through; Him and the rest of the NCIS team, trying to prove Timothy McGee's innocence. Of course.. In the end, there was little they could do, despite the fact the same team had managed to prove his own innocence against a frame up a while back. Of course, with McGee's case, there had been hardly any way to prove he didn't kill his former best friend from childhood; Petty Officer Jeffrey Simmons, who had wound up dead a little over a month ago.

Of course, with Gibbs being Gibbs, so as to not ruin NCIS reputation, he'd handed over the investigation of such a crime to the FBI; who as far as Tony was concerned, had done a shitty job. Nothing came out right; or rather, everything went perfectly smooth, which was what Tony was so concerned about. For one, he knew his Probie; incapable of cold blooded murder generally, but even if he had been, McGeek knew enough from their own investigations not to leave evidence at the scene of a crime. But there had been enough evidence in Jeffrey's appartment to convict him. Two, was the crime scene itself. The body had been found slumped in a sitting position on his couch, his arm slung over the back of the couch to the side, as though he'd been sitting, hanging out with a friend while he'd still been alive. Likewise, there were two bullet wounds in his body; one from the side of his head, where someone must have been sitting, and one straight to the heart from a frontal position. The bullets proved to come from the make of gun McGee carried.

There was a lot of blood from just these two wounds, but it made sense with the amount of alcohol bottles scattered around the appartment; and clutched in a deathgrip by Jeffrey. All of the bottles had been tested, and one of the bottles on the coffee table had tested positive for McGee's saliva. From there, a small trail of blood marked a path straight to the victim's bathroom, where in the drain, a few hairs of McGee's were found. That seemed to be the end of the evidence at first, but upon inspection outside, obviously there was more 'blunders' on McGee's part. Hidden in a plastic bag inside the shrubs that bordered the doorway to the house, blood soaked clothes were found; both McGee's size and style. And if that wasn't enough to put a red, flashing sign above Probie's head, the driveway was made up of a decoritive, colored sand; which had also been found in the tires of the car McGee currently owned.

Only making matters worse, McGee had been out and away from the Office for a few days durring the time of the murder, and none of the agents there had known exactly where he had gone. So of course, McGee had been pulled in for some extensive questioning. Durring the interrogation, McGee had hesitantly offered up in an embaressed tone that he'd gone to the Comic Con in Ruckersville, Virginia. It had taken another few nervous filled moments for him to admit he'd gone as James Howlett; or rather, Wolverine. Unfortunately, when those who the FBI could bring in for questioning from the Comic Con were asked, none were able to place McGee there at the time; " To many Wolverine's to count this year. " They'd said.

When McGee had offered to show the costume he'd worn in a little proof of his testimony, it had both shocked NCIS and the FBI that McGee couldn't produce said costume; " It must have been stolen! " he'd claimed, but it didn't matter to anyone but his team, it seemed. Even for the Jury, the pan of events had been easy to see; McGee drives himself alone to Jeffrey's house in Ruckersville, sits down and has a beer with a drunken friend. Pulls his gun, and shoots him once in the head, then stands up, and shoots him again in the heart. Walks to the bathroom, cleans up, dresses in different clothes and stashes the bloodied clothes in a bag in the shrubs. Makes his getaway in the car he came in. The only thing missing was motive; until an anonymous call came in, tipping off the FBI about a recent fight between McGee and Simmons about McGee's father that had come to blows. The call was unable to be traced.

McGee was sent to trial and convicted for the murder, and sent here; to the Federal Prison in Hopewell, Virginia. Even a month later, the team that had been left behind had continued to work as much as they could, to somehow come up with evidence that would prove McGee's innocence, despite the overwhelming, incriminating evidence. The only things they'd come up with in such a long time, however, were McGee's professed innocence, and a powdery residue on the steering wheel and handle of McGee's car, the bottle that had his saliva on it, and the doorknob on the victim's house. Which could all be counteracted by the 'evidence', and the presumption McGee was wearing gloves.

McGee's absense had taken it's toll on the NCIS agents - his friends, foremost - since he was convicted. It hadn't been Gibbs' fault that he'd had to terminate McGee's employment there, but damnit, Neither had it been McGee's! Tony DiNozzo startled himself by banging his fist against the wheel of his car again, bringing him out of thought and back to where he sat in the car. But he was still reluctant to get out; to face the boy he'd easily teased and picked on and made fun of, even though he'd been his best friend durring the entire time. This entire month, he hadn't been able to bring up the nerve to face him, because of everything that they had done - and weren't able to do.

He owed the guy a visit, though. He owed it to McGeek to show him that he still believed he was innocent. So, taking a large breath to steady his already trembling body, - nervousness or anger? - DiNozzo finally willed himself to open the car door and step out into the huge parking lot for the Prison. It was because of his preoccupied thoughts, however, that he didn't hear the footsteps behind him, silent as they were. It came as a moment of surprise as something harshly hit the back of his head, then everything disappeared into a world of black as he passed out; he never even felt the pavement strike his flesh as he fell.

- DiNozzo slowly woke up, fully clothed, to the feeling of soft warmth against his back and left side, the feeling of a head tucked neatly under his left arm, against his chest. For a second, he thought he had woken up with his last affair; a pretty blonde who had actually tired him out fairly well durring the night. But as he slowly opened his eyes, the exact opposite of the girl's room found his eyes; instead, he found bare walls painted a deep red surrounding them. He and whoever was with him was lying on a rather comfortable bed, the ruby red covers laying smoothed out underneath the two bodies, ready to be used. Next to them, to the left a ways, was a lone refridgerator, and next to that was a bathtub. On the next wall to the left of the tub, was a sink, and a toilet. The floor was white tile, and other than what little furniture was already glanced at, there was nothing else in the room.

Except for the huge, glass structure situated more than twelve feet above DiNozzo and the body sleeping against his, and next to the structure looked like a speaker. Besides this, there was no way to get in or out of the room; no windows, no doors, no trap doors, hitches in the walls; nothing. Blinking his eyes a few time to rid them of sleep, DiNozzo tried to make sense of what he was seeing, though he couldn't. He was slightly startled, though, when the body next to him shifted, a small sigh of awakening vibrating out of the form. But as DiNozzo glanced down at the awakening person, even more shock filled his form.

McGee was sleepily blinking up at him, wearing the same clothes his senior had last seen him in; a bedraggled suit without a tie. Confusion filled both of their hues, which was only amplified by the sudden, female voice that seemed to float over them from every corner of the room, though after a few seconds, DiNozzo figured out it was coming from the speaker previously noted.

" Good morning, Boys. Welcome to your first day of Hell in Paradise. "


	2. Chapter 2

McGee suddenly realized he was staring at Tony, which wasn't a good thing. The other male didn't know about the secret fantasies he'd held the years he'd been part of NCIS; and as far as he was concerned, that was the best way to keep it. Looking away from DiNozzo's eyes, McGee caught sight of the way they'd been laying for the few minutes while they awakened fully. He was laying in Tony's arms, his body pressed intimately up against the other's chest, his face - if he hadn't turned it - mere inches away from Tony's...

Both DiNozzo and McGee quickly seperated themselves from each other's arms as though they'd been burnt, which ended up in DiNozzo almost falling off the bed itself, though he managed to catch himself. The sudden thud and groaning sound from McGee told DiNozzo that had attempted to catch himself from falling as well; and failed. It wasn't to say the bed was small; it was a fairly large, queen size, if DiNozzo's memory served well. He'd been in several in his days of sleeping around with different women.

Of course, this gave him no comfort at all; DiNozzo had absolutely no idea where he or McGee were, how they'd gotten there, or what was in store. His heart was racing in his chest as he took another quick look around, before settling on the glass structure that looked like it was built for maximum servailence of the room. Squinting his eyes, he thought he could see a person standing in such a structure, but he couldn't quite tell. He jumped again, however, when McGee slowly stood and raised his voice, obviously trying to talk to whomever had placed them in this room.

" Wh- Who are you? "

McGee's question was answered fairly quickly, and DiNozzo made a quick observation that the voice was indeed coming from the speaker next to the glass. He sat up on the bed to get a better look at the structure as he listened to the responce.

" Who I am doesn't matter, Tim. " The usage of McGee's first name caused both men to share a quick glance before McGee continued his questions.

" Alright then... what do you want with us? Why are we here? What happened? "

A small chuckle met all his questions, though this time, it took her a little longer to respond.

" I want a show, Boys. As for what happened; In laymans terms, you could say you were both kidnapped. " Her voice held amusement; something DiNozzo didn't like to hear.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, DiNozzo moved to stand up; only to be met with a sudden wave of dizziness and a throbbing head that shoved him back down onto the bed, reminding him of how exactly he'd come to black out. Raising his hand, he felt around his head with dextarious fingers, trying to pinpoint the spot he'd been hit. And there, on the lower left, back of his head, was a rather large goose egg that caused him to wince as his fingers brushed over it. This of course, only brought McGee's attention away from the amused female voice.

" Tony, you alright? "

DiNozzo spared a glance toward McGee; the man who was supposed to be behind bars for a crime he didn't commit. Well.. he wasn't behind bars anymore. DiNozzo couldn't figure out if that was good or bad yet. He started to nod his head, but with another, fresh wave of dizziness, he settled for lowering his hand down to his lap and speaking.

" Yeah, all's good, Probie. Just got a little knocked up. " He paused, then made a face. " The details are a little fuzzy, though. "

This only seemed to rile McGee, though, as he then turned with clenched fists, back to the glass above them.

" What did you do to Tony? "

" I did nothing to your partner; " She chuckled, bemused even further it seemed. " My hands are completely clean of any wrong doings. "

" Which is a fancy way of saying you were behind it, but you don't think anyone can prove it. " McGee said quietly, his eyes narrowing and his fists clenching even further.

McGee had a sudden urge to shoot his way out of this place; adding a casualty to that escape; Hers. A quick search of himself, however, yeilded that his gun had been stripped of his form, as well as his watch, any metals, and even his belt. He didn't even have his shoes on anymore, and he knew from a quick glance at DiNozzo, who had searched himself also, that the same result had been found.

Giving a small, frustrated sigh, McGee realized something had to be done. As he was already standing, he turned in a circle, his gaze sweeping the wall critically, looking for anything; hinges, indentions, gaps, lines, anything that might indicate some sort of trap door or secret escape that could lead them out of here. But instead, there was nothing; at least, nothing on their level that they could reach.

There were a few lines in small squares probably ten feet above them, but nothing they could even fit their heads through. They had to have gotten in here somehow; and that would be the key to their escape. They just had to figure out _how_. McGee thought back to what few words they'd heard from their captor, trying to figure out if there was anything in her words, when he remembered her statement from before.

" Wait... You want a show from us? " McGee asked, befuddled.

This caught DiNozzo's attention as well, as the both of them turned confused eyes up at the glass where their captor presumably was, only to hear another soft chuckle.

" Indeed. And to be honest, I should allow you to acclimate to your new environment, however, I cannot wait to watch the new fun. My only dilema... " Another small chuckle, " Is who to inject first. "

Once again, McGee and DiNozzo shared glances, but this time, both eyes were full of apprehension; and fear.

- Gibbs' fist slammed down on his desk, startling Ziva and Abby and causing them to jump slightly, sharing a glance. Gibbs hadn't been in a good mood when McGee was arrested; but now that both he and DiNozzo had disappeared, with all the evidence pointing toward a staged break out? Abby was starting to miss that slightly sour mood in lue of his outraged mood, now.

Not even a day ago they'd gotten word that McGee had been broken out of Prison by a certain Anthony DiNozzo; that his car had been driven to the Prison durring the time McGee would have been enjoying a little outside time on the grounds. Both cameras that could have caught such an escape had been shot; and ballistics on the bullets that had been left behind matched the kind fired from the gun DiNozzo carried. Not to mention a raid of DiNozzo's home found several articles of clothing missing, like he'd packed up and left with as little as possible, including a change of clothing for McGee.

Even Abby had to admit, it looked convincing. Whoever had done this had gone to extreme lengths to make it look like DiNozzo had done everything himself; even going so far as to take his car, and abandon it several cities away, devoid of any fingerprints at all; even DiNozzo's, like it had been thoroughly cleaned. But even with all this incriminating evidence, Abby still couldn't believe Tony would do something like that. Someone had framed him, just like they had sweet little Timmy; everyone at NCIS knew that. Or at least, all of Tony's friends new that. Which was probably why Gibbs was so angry right now.

Abby was brought back from her thoughts as Gibbs turned around, eyeing both her and Ziva for a few seconds before saying gruffly,

" I need answers. My gut tells me they're both connected, and I need you back at the crimescene, Ziva. "

However, his comment had startled and confused Ziva, as she asked quietly,

" Um.. Tony's abandoned car, Sir? "

" No. Jeffrey Simmon's House. "

_Authors Note : Please Review; I love reading comments of those who enjoy my stories, or even those who have ideas or complaints. Also, if something doesn't make sense, tell me. I'll either find a way to answer it by including it in on the next chapter, or by pming you directly. Thank you for taking the time to read the story, and this little note. Happy New Years, also, Everyone. Also, Special thanks to BnBfanatic for the correction I missed. _


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the large goose egg on the back of his head, Tony paced the expance of the room where he could, turning on his heel each time he came to a corner or a peice of furniture that blocked his path. Sitting on the edge of the large, plush bed, Tim fought the urge to shift nervously, his hands clasped in his lap and his eyes watching Tony go back and forth like clockwork. Without his watch, Tim didn't have a clear idea how long it had been since their captor had all but threatened them with some kind of injection, but the fear of whatever was to come was growing in the both of them, though Tim had to admit, he was somewhat skeptical anything she had planned would come to pass easily.

They were in a room, with no windows, no doors it looked like, no trap doors, none of the walls had any hinges... nothing. How was she going to get in to _/give/_ an injection, anyway? But rationality did little to calm his fears, let alone the growing worry that somehow, Tony was going to hurt himself by pacing like a caged, wild animal on the prowl. And that's the same exact look he had on his face, too, Tim noticed for the hundreth time. Tony's brows were furrowed to a slight dip, his eyes cast straight ahead, his mouth set into a grim line that sometimes rivaled Gibb's frown, and his nostrils just slightly flaired. It was scary... but it was so intensely hot, also.

Tim sighed quietly to himself. The entire time he'd worked at NCIS, he'd found his partner, Tony, near irresistable, and yet, he'd always had to hold himself back. He didn't want to, but Tony was happy just being... Tony. Going from girl to girl, having one night stands and two week romances that seemed to make him the happiest man in the world; who was Tim to take that from him just because of some selfish attraction he harbored? So Tim closed his eyes; partly to take his mind off the way Tony's lithe form continued to prowl back and forth in his intensely wild demeanor, and partly to try and figure out what was going on here. How long had it been since they were contacted by their kidnapper?

Evidently long enough.

**-Break-**

"Gibbs, there's nothing here." Ziva reluctantly said, turning her hands palm-side up while facing a rather sourfaced Gibbs, who turned a stone face on her. He said nothing verbally, but his expression said more than anyone needed to. 'Look harder.'

So Ziva turned back to the living room couch. The way Jeffrey had been found, he'd had his arm over the back of the couch, as though he'd been sitting with his arm around someone. Being really chummy, she had to guess, but then again, drunks were always chummy, weren't they? Still... On nothing but a hunch and curiosity, Ziva sat down in the exact spot where Jeffrey had been murdered, recalling the entry point for the first bullet wound; the right side of his cranium, just above his ear. Jeffrey wasn't a tall man, merely 5'5. Measured up against Tim, the bullet should have gone through the exact middle of his right side... instead... the bullet wound was several inches above the eartip, and shot downward.

The only way that would have happened would have been if McGee had raised his hand up, curved the gun down, and pulled the trigger. There was hardly any gunpowder residue on the side of his cranium, so it wasn't pressed against his head, so that positioning must have been pretty damn awkward, wouldn't it have been? So that meant... that Jeffrey's killer had to have been taller than he. At least 5'9, if not more. It wasn't much... but at least it was a start.

**-Break-**

"Such pent up energy, Tony." Came the female voice from above, catching the attention of Tim and Tony at once, though while Tim paled, anxiety plaguing him in wonder as to what would happen to them, Tony all but snarled, and sent his fist to the wall he'd been in front of, gritting his teeth against the vibrations such an action sent through his arm, up his spine and to his already throbbing head, though it didn't stop him from grounding out,

"What do you care, bitch?"

This only caused their captor to chuckle, and within a second, the wall beneath Tony's fist seemed to open up, folding inward and allowing his fist to slip through a small, two by two inch square, before the wall seemed to all but close back up on his arm, leaving his hand stuck in the wall. This caused Tony's face to become chalk white, as well as Tim's, and McGee jumped up from the bed in shock, though what exactly he could do for his partner, he had no clue. The shock of the situation didn't stop Tony from yanking as hard as he could on his arm, going so far as to place his foot on the wall to help brace himself while he tugged and pulled.

Unfortunately, the wall seemed to be made of strong material, and just wouldn't let his hand go. It only served to slow Tony's tugging when the female voice sounded out again, smug and mallicious all at the same time.

"I've made my decision, boys. Now it's time to have a little fun, no?"

Tony barely felt the prick of a needle on the back of his hand, where it was pushed into a vein, seconds before it was pulled back, and the wall re-opened enough to let Tony drag his hand out of the wall; both Tim and Tony watched with slightly wide eyes as the wall folded back into its original position, smoothing out without a single crack or hinge. But more frightening than a room that could swallow them at will... was the barely there, red hole in the back of his hand where a tiny dot of blood was welling up on Tony's hand.

Tony and Tim shared a glance; but only Tim caught the slight shine to Tony's eyes, and the start of a few beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, the elevated breathing that might have just been from his struggle, and the slight shaking of his form that could have been attributed to the fear of being injected with an unknown substance. But Tim had to doubt his last line of reasoning...

He'd seen that look Tony's eyes before. With a jump in his heart, and a reluctance to give too much thought to the manner, he swore Tony was looking at him like he looked at a nice waitress with a plump rear. With want.

With need.

_A/N: Here's out to xenascully, for giving me a few messages, reviews, and overall want to try and start up this story again. Please read and review, and I'll try to update within a few days, depending on how many reviews I get. Thanks again. ~_


	4. Chapter 4

Why had he never noticed McGee's green eyes before? Wide, and centered right on his own, Tony felt a slight shiver run down his spine, as well as the stirring in his trousers that seemed to come on so suddenly. Never... Never had Tony felt such an urge to take the younger male into his arms, rip away his clothing, and just bury himself in what he assumed had to be skin as soft as a woman's. With his breathing hitched, and his eyes deadlocked on Tim's own, his arm slowly rose, his fingers waiting to feel the soft cotton of his shirt, knowing it would really only take one, good tug to tear it away from his lithe little torso, revealing only half of what Tony /really/ wanted to see right now...

"T-Tony..?" McGee stuttered, taking a small step back, his eyes widening even more like a deer stuck in the headlights, his own chest starting to heave and fall, though that one motion was what seemed to startle Tony out of whatever trance the drug had started to send him into. With a heaving, broken breath, Tony forced his arm down, even as his legs shifted in a jerky fashion toward the bed, where both of his hands came out to settle on the edge of the bed, his form half bent to achieve this. His hands clenched in the covers, and it was through equally clenched teeth that he ground out, "Stay away from me."

He couldn't. He wanted to. He needed Tim right now; for comfort, for pleasure, for /anything/ to ease this sudden burning inside that seemed to start right at his groin and worked its way up, clouding his mind to the point where it was hard to keep his grip on the covers, but he just couldn't do that. Not with Tim. Hell, he wasn't gay! He'd always been attracted to women, and damn it, it was just that fucking drug that the bitch in the glass window injected him with that was making him feel this way. As long as he reminded himself that it was just a drug... that it wasn't /him/, he could get through this.

His throbbing groin begged to differ.

**_-Break-_**

Tim shivered for the fifth time; not out of complete fear ( That's not to say he wasn't afraid ) but from those tiny chills you get when you really have to take a piss. After Tony had been injected, Tim's mouth had gone insanely dry with the looks that Tony kept giving him, and as a result, he'd turned to the fridge that they'd been given, finding several bottles of water waiting for them, as well as food supplies. He'd skipped out on food in lue of the water, and had downed two full bottles before he'd even given a thought to it. He was seriously regretting that decision now, as he leaned against the back wall, trying to keep his eyes away from Tony; and the toilet that remained open to the entire room.

He didn't want to say anything; he was afraid of breaking Tony's self-control, because while a part of him wanted Tony to just turn around and start ravaging his body, - Damn it, get ahold of yourself - it was just the drugs making him want to do so. But the need was starting to become a little overwhelming, and unless he wanted to simply take a piss in his trousers, he'd have to move to the toilet in the next few minutes. With another shiver, knowing he was tempting fate, Tim sent a glance toward Tony again as he very slowly shifted off of the wall, keeping his eyes on Tony the entire time, watching him as he continued to lean toward the bed, his hands fisted in the covers, the muscles in his shoulders tensing and spasming slightly. Tony's breathing was starting to get pretty bad, and Tim couldn't help but feel like somehow, it was his fault that his partner was in pain.

Maybe if he had somehow been able to clear his name and stay out of prison, this wouldn't have happened, he thought, seconds before he realized he was now standing in front of the toilet, another cold shiver ran through his body. His eyes settled on the clear water inside the bowl as he took a small breath. Closing his eyes, Tim shifted his hands around to the front of his trousers, opening the zipper, pulling himself out and positioning himself just enough to -

"Here, let me help."

Tim gasped loudly, and if Tony's arm hadn't come around his midsection the same time his opposite hand came to fall on Tim's hand, then Tim would have jumped quite possibly right out of the room. But he didn't have the chance to, and he didn't even have barely enough room to move now, because Tony's arm continued to pull him backwards, pressing his form intimately to the heated body behind him, and with widened eyes, Tim also realized how being pressed up against Tony put his ass in perfect alignment with...

With a gulp and another shiver that had nothing to do with his earlier dilemma, Tim felt himself taking a shaky breath that turned into a gasp at the end, the second Tony's hand shifted, his fingers unlacing Tim's from his embarrassingly hardening cock, only to grip it himself. Tim found his body reacting on a will of its own, his hips thrusting hesitatingly forward into Tony's hand as his head was tossed back to rest on Tony's shoulder. A soft, whimpering mewl came out of Tim's parted lips, bringing his mind back to him with the sound, so it came as a surprise and a shock when Tony's hand slipped from his hardened member to the buttons on his trousers.

With a sharp intake of breath and gritted teeth, Tim forced himself to try and pull away from Tony, but was surprised at just how strong the arm around his waist was. His struggling did nothing to hinder Tony, even as Tim's arms began flailing a little, his hands balled into fists with the way he was trying to hold himself back from just throwing himself at Tony and whatever the drug had made him become. But he just couldn't do that to his friend; he had to stay strong.

"T-Tony… You don't want this. This isn't yo-"

"Shut up." Tony growled out against Tim's ear, causing the smaller man to shudder in his grip.

Tim was at a loss; on one hand, he knew exactly what was going on. Tony had been drugged and - oh god, now his trousers were undone… On the other hand, _especially _as he felt the fabric of his jeans falling past his hips to pool at his feet, as Tony's hand once more slipped over his exposed hardness, the delicious sensations of flesh on flesh and the feel of the man's callouses… Tim found it hard not to just lose himself to the burning need starting in his body. He had to, but…

The second Tony's hips thrust forward into his own, Tim lost what little control of his body he'd been able to retain and thrust his hips back, a quiet moan escaping his lips and causing Tony to growl again, his hands becoming quickly more forceful as they settled around his hips. Tim was surprised the moment Tony yanked him away from where he stood in front of the toilet, unable to fight as he was dragged over toward the bed. Even with the knowledge that it was only the drugs making Tony act as such, Tim's body was helpless to resist the sensations and anticipation that flowed throughout his veins like liquid fire, igniting him in ways he'd never thought possible.

Tony all but threw Tim down onto the bed, where he bounced and lay half on and half off, his eyes seductively wide and soft whimpering mews coming from his parted lips. Tony couldn't take it anymore; it was too much for him. With another, deeper growl ripping its way from his throat, Tony yanked off the remaining layer of clothing stopping him from getting what he wanted, only gaining more gasps and delicious moans while doing so, firing him up further impossibly until he felt like he was going to burst right then and there. But he never stopped.

With quick, hurried motions from the man above him, Tim felt his underwear leave him, and his legs raised by two strong hands placed at the back of his knees. He bit down hard on his lip as his hands fisted into the covers of the bed, both in anticipation and need of what was seconds later in coming. There was pain, yes, but most of it was overridden by the sudden, blinding pleasure as Tony thrust forwards – inwards – filling Tim completely with one fatal stroke. Tim's head pushed back against this bed, his eyes closed tightly against the sensations wracking his body and filling up his senses as Tony began a quick, hard rhythm.

It wasn't entirely like Tim had always imagined it would be; there were no loving caresses, no whispered words of caring or passion. Just pure need. But in the end, Tim didn't mind; the best way to explain it was like getting raped by your loved one. Unexpected and surprising and _delicious_. In mere seconds, the tension that had been growing between them since Tony's injection had exploded, partly because as Tony shifted to the side before thrusting back into the writhing form beneath him again, the head of his arousal prodded perfectly Tim's prostate, sending waves of pure, unrestricted pleasure toppling over his entire body.

It seemed like they weren't two bodies struggling for their own pleasure anymore, rather, one body moving rapidly toward its final ecstasy.

**_-Break-_**

The woman sitting in the shadows, behind the safety of her glass chuckled to herself, the moans and pants of the two participants in her game filling the room in which she sat. But it was too simple, she thought to herself. Perhaps her recipe needed to be less concentrated, so that there would be more internal turmoil, more intense suspense, more desire. Or perhaps, she thought with a smirk, she could increase the concentration and inject Tim instead. That would be quite a show, to watch him throw himself at Tony like a whore. Yes, that sounded wonderful; she chuckled quietly, but of course, because the button for her speakers wasn't pressed, the two couldn't hear her, even as the moans and screams of ecstasy became louder, filling her ears.

She watched the two collapse, Tim's legs falling around Tony's exhausted form. She found it mildly amusing however, when several minutes later, Tim slowly pushed his way out from Tony's limp and lax body, moving quickly and shakily over to the toilet.

Yes, this was indeed going to be quite the game.

_**A/N: Alright. I've /FINALLY/ gotten a new chapter up. This one took weeks to write, so I don't know how good it's really going to be, since I kept having to stop and start. Anyway. Review.**_


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